


Grubs

by shellebelle



Series: Jerseystuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Grubs, jerseystuck, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-20
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellebelle/pseuds/shellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel of sorts to <span class="u">Clerkstuck</span>. Seriously, it's just cute. Maybe a tiny bit of sad. But mostly cute fluffy stuff. Enjoy!</p><p>Note: Right now, only grubs for Tavros, Karkat, Terezi and Gamzee, but will probably be more when I can do them!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here are my notes for this particular AU: http://tumblr.com/ZUV9RyAKyDFo
> 
> Because I couldn't resist writing MORE FIC in this particular 'verse.
> 
> This particular story is nothing but silly and cute. The chapters are extremely short. I hope people like it.

_ The Alternian government and the governments of Earth thank you for receiving the offspring of the Mother Grub into your care. When Alternia was still a viable planet, our children were raised by lusii, creatures of magnificent strength, who helped our children grow into the trolls they were destined to be. Now that we are no longer on Alternia, we must rely on your hospitality to help our children grow up healthy and strong.  We of Alternia recognize that you are taking on a great responsibility, and we sincerely hope that this experience will be rewarding for all of you.    
\-- The Raising of Alternian Young: A New Caregiver’s Guide.    
_   
The call for human host families to help raise the first generation of Alternian grubs on Earth had gone out a full two years before they were truly needed; before the mother grub had laid her eggs. This turned out to be a good decision. There were very few lusii left, and the ones that were alive were generally small, and would not be able to raise the trolls alone in a world that was not accommodating to them.  And the adult trolls who were not jade-blooded had no clue how to care for grubs or children, having never had to do so. 

The adoption committee consisted of six trolls including a jade-blood, and three humans, specialists in child and adolescent development, who would help evaluate the human families for the trolls. 

Of course, trolls have different ideas of what makes a good family than humans do. There are arguments that the humans don’t understand, that devolve from broken English to Alternian, arguing in growls and clicks. The jade-blood tries to auspicsticise between several factions in the troll delegation, with varying degrees of success. 

The arguments about hemospectrum are largely lost on the humans, though the trolls are adamant that their culture be respected and maintained. In the end, as long as there are no blatant signs of high-blooded favoritism, the humans allow for the trolls to have the final say. 

By the time the committee has host families lined up, the grubs are nearly ready to lose their vestigial legs. Only a few lusii are left, and only three out of the entire population have found grubs to latch on to. 

There are several population clusters of trolls, mostly in the United States and Canada. Most of those clusters are coastal, so as to accommodate the seadwelling trolls and not spread out the population too thinly through the country. 

So...these particular trolls are...

 _...wait for it... _

Jerseystuck. 


	2. Tavros Nitram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The series of stories is mostly Tavros-centric, since he has the most well-defined (in my head) host family.

==>Be Alice Penny

 

You and your husband follow nervously behind the troll in charge of the nursery. “This one was lucky to have a lusus choose him, so you’ll have help,” she was saying. “This one is particularly small.” 

You can’t tell if the troll meant that the lusus was small or that the grub was small. Your husband squeezes your hand and grins over at you. From the first moment you looked up at the sky and wondered, you’d dreamed about a day like today. It’s why you started writing sci-fi, and why you cultivated an amateur interest in astronomy and science. 

It’s also how you met your husband George, a young astronomer,  who is just as much of a dreamer as you are. 

When the Alternian starships entered Earth atmosphere, you were both glued to the television screens, mainlining coffee, not wanting to miss a moment of history. And when they asked for host families for alien babies, you both were completely over the moon with excitement, waiting with bated breath to be approved. 

Last night, you could hardly sleep. You’ve already decided to homeschool the grub till first grade, you dream of what sorts of challenges this could present. The education classes have been fascinating for you, and you can’t imagine why everyone isn’t jumping at this chance. 

Twelve. Twelve families are taking this opportunity. Twelve friends for the grub you will care for. 

You’re approaching the nursery window, but instead of rows of bassinets, there are a dozen or so little grubs crawling around, about half the size of a human infant. Their bodies are different colors, and their little faces are almost baby faces, but the grey skin, the dark hair, the horns of various shapes mark them as very, very different. 

They are completely and wholly alien, but you find them  adorable.   “Which one,” you ask softly, almost pressing your nose against the glass. The troll in charge smiles in amusement, her jade colored eyes sympathetic. 

“The brown one, with the small flying bull hovering over him.” She points him out to you. He’s cute, with horns just above his pointed ears, just little nubby ones. “The lusus’ name is Tinkerbull.” 

You turn to her. “You’re kidding.” 

She tilts her head. “Why would I do that?” 

You just grin and turn back to the nursery. The lusus is hovered protectively over his charge, who is just crawling around, exploring. 

“Look at him go,” your husband murmurs. You can’t help smiling. This is all so exciting! 

“Come into the nursery first,” she says. “We’ll see if he comes to you. His name is Tavros Nitram.” 

The nursery doesn’t smell like a human baby nursery, mostly because these infants are not mammalian, and it’s your first taste of really how biologically different these grubs are. It’s not an unpleasant smell, rather like autumn leaves. “Have a seat.” 

You sit and watch as she goes in and raises her hand, palm out, to the little fluttering bull. Now that you’re closer, you see that the bull isn’t much bigger than a medium sized dog. The tiny grub named Tavros is looking up at the bull, up and up and up till he falls over. 

You smile. He wriggles all six of his legs (of which two were already starting to look like arms and hands) and manages to right himself. The bull flutters down, there’s a moment where the two of them look at each other, and then the grub starts crawling over to you. It’s all you can do not to go forward and pick him up. 

“This particular grub shows a facility for communing with animals,” the nurse says. “He’s very close with his lusus--there was an argument about whether or not it would be permitted to let the lusus go with him, but in the end we thought it would be for the best if they stayed together.” 

Several years from now, you’ll find out it’s because your grub is so low on the hemospectrum that some were of the opinion that he didn’t rate a lusus of his own, but for now, you just assume it’s because there are so few left. 

Tinkerbull hovers over you, his wings stirring your hair. Your husband looks up, fascinated. The little white creature is studying you both, as if he’ll translate who you are to the little brown grub. Maybe he is, you aren’t precisely sure how this works. 

Tavros is near your foot now, and you and your husband lean over and hold your hands out to him the way you’ve been taught, so that he’ll gain your scent and recognize you as a friendly being. 

“You may feel his teeth. They’re very small,” the nurse warned, “but they’re there. Grubs learn about things by tasting and biting.” 

Sure enough, you both feel tiny bites on your fingers. His teeth are like needles but they’re very small. You wince, but reassure yourself that _ at least you don’t have to breastfeed him.  _

  
Your husband grins at you because the little grub is butting up against his hand and making a small trilling noise. He picks Tavros up and there’s a squeak of surprise at the motion and a little tremble but then the grub is looking around, curious. He stretches toward you and you reach out to cup his head in your hand.  Tinkerbull flutters down and hovers, looking at his charge for a few moments. Tavros makes another small trilling noise and leans his head into your hand, and the tiny flying bull goes to sit a short distance away, watching. 

“It looks as if the grub and lusus are bonding with you already,” the nursemaid says softly. “It hasn’t gone this smoothly with the others I’ve seen.” There haven’t been many others yet, it’s true, but trolls were not a trusting race, and their offspring were no different. 

You can’t stop smiling. This isn’t the way you ever pictured becoming a mother for the first time, but you think you’ll take it. 


	3. Karkat Vantas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my headcanon that all the jade-blooded trolls have the surname Maryam.

==>Be Terrence Albright

You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here.

Sure, you applied. You don’t have kids, and you don’t have much of a family. You’d like to do something outside of yourself. Have someone around to take care of.

The thought of raising a creature that doesn’t belong here appeals to you, since you don't think you belong here either. You’ve never held much stock in stuff like science fiction, though you do like Star Trek (but not the reboot so much, Star Trek isn’t Star Trek without Shatner, dammit), and this is too interesting a proposition to pass up.

You do hope that you’ll be good for the little guy (or girl, who even knows at this juncture?). You have a soft spot for kids, but your wife died before you could have them, and you’ve had no interest in marrying again. You figure that you were married to a good woman, and you don’t figure on being lucky enough to find another.

This seems to be a good compromise for yourself, and you hope that you can be good for the little grub, too.

The nursemaid tilts her head at you, a lone male in a sea of families, but still gives you a smile. You wonder a little at the gray of her skin and the oddly dissonant yellow-orange of her horns and the sharpness of her teeth. “Hello,” she says, and you can tell there’s an accent there in her patient caregiver voice. “I am pleased that you have come. I will show you the grub you will be taking home.” She gestures for you to follow her. “I am pleasantly surprised that you volunteered. It will not be a simple task and you are alone.”

“I’ve got a job I work from home,” you explain. “And I have a lot of spare time.” And empty hours.

“Well, the grub you’ll be taking home will keep you on your toes,” she says cheerfully. “He’s a rambunctious little fellow. His name is Karkat Vantas.”

You’re surprised to see that he’s bright red all over, his little almost-baby face only slightly less so than his body. He seems to be smaller than all the rest but he makes up for it with pure determination. He tackles the little balls and things in the nursery with pure stubbornness, even if he isn’t big enough to actually play with anything. He falls over, falls on his face, but doesn’t seem to care. He just wriggles till he rights himself and starts over again.

You have to chuckle. Yeah, he’ll be a good kid. Grub. Whatever. He’s kinda cute, like a savage furless plushie that bites. You like him already.

The nursemaid is smiling at you. “Despite how cranky he gets, he still manages to charm people.”

You snort. “Yeah, like yours truly. So...can I meet him?”

“Of course. Right this way,” she says, leading you into another room where you can see all the grubs that are left. You can feel the funk of the alien children in this room. It’s not an unpleasant feeling.

The nursemaid clucks softly at the little red grub, who ceases his attack on a stuffed animal twice his size to pay attention to her. She takes him up gently, and it’s obvious there’s a bit of attachment there. You hope he won’t mind going home with you.

You hope the nursemaid won’t miss him too much.

She comes and sits next to you on the sofa, the grub in her two open palms. Her hands are big, she’s a full grown troll and about six inches taller than you are--a disconcerting feeling because you aren’t precisely _short._ The grub is about the size of a kitten. Karkat looks up at you, his mouth pressed into a line. You extend your hand so he can bite it and catch the scent and taste of it. The bite hurts, but you figure it won’t be the last time. He trills at you, and looks back at the nursemaid, who nods at him.

Karkat crawls onto your outstretched hand, and onto your arm, then up your chest so he can get a better look at you, though he still has to tilt his head back to see your face. “Intelligent little guy.”

“Blindingly so, actually. He’s one of the smarter ones.”

“You’re fond of him.”

The nursemaid blushes--or at least you _think_ it’s a blush--a faint green tint spreading across her nose and cheeks. It’s oddly attractive. “Well...I think we all have our favorites.” She looks at you, smiling this time. “But I think you will be good for him. Look at how he is taking to you already.”

The little grub had proceeded to climb from your hand, up your arm and onto your shoulder. You look over at him and he looks at you, then curls up, observing. He looks tired, you think, and you try to keep your body still. Maybe he’ll sleep if he trusts you enough.

“Well,” you say, “I certainly hope I’m good for him.” You look over at her. “What’s your name?”

She blinks at you.

“Well, come on, you gotta have a name, right?”

She shrugs. “People normally don’t ask.” And by ‘people’, you assume she means ‘humans’. You look at your hands, at your dark skin. She’s even more of a minority on this planet than you are. “It’s Survia Maryam.” She worries her lower lip with those sharp teeth of hers.

“Well, Survia, I’m Terrence Albright.” He looked over at the grub on his shoulder. “And it looks like Karkat is asleep.”

She smiled and reached over to stroke her finger over Karkat’s head. “I am actually taking charge of a grub, myself. A new jade-blooded grub was born and I am to watch over her.”

“Is there a difference between the blood colors?” You honestly don’t know. The handbook didn’t really say much about it.

She presses her lips together, then speaks cautiously. “Less than our kind seems to think, but yes...a bit of difference. Traditionally, jade-blooded trolls are to serve our Mother Grub and care for the eggs till they hatch. And here...we care for the grubs, too.” She says this happily, as if she’s glad to have this new responsibility.

Karkat, on your shoulder, sighs and makes this little noise of contentment, and you cover him with your hand and bring him into your arms. He curls up in the crook of one elbow, and tiny little almost-hands grab onto your shirt sleeve.

“You’re never going to get him to let go now,” Survia murmurs.

“Good.” Karkat starts chewing on your shirt, and you chuckle. “I like him. He’s a great little guy.” And you think, that despite his outwardly cranky demeanor, that he’ll be kind of affectionate, too. You wonder if he’ll be like you.

You look at Survia. She is looking at you and Karkat with a little smile on her face. “Is it...I mean, can I...”

She tilts her head at you. “What?”

“I mean. Am I allowed to call you? Or...visit?” You hope you don’t look as pathetic as you sound. Because you _sound_ like a puppy sitting in the rain, looking into a window.

She looks a bit confused, but then says, “I don’t see why not.” She takes out a small notepad and pen and writes (with green ink, later, you’ll notice it was the precise color of her blush and wonder if it was intentional or coincidental) her name (as if you could forget it) and her telephone number. “You can call me, though I may be busy. Leave a message and I shall answer it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You suddenly feel shy and stupid (what the fuck is _that_ even about, you’re a grown man, for fuck’s sake) and you turn your attention to Karkat, because the nursemaid is blushing again.

Karkat is awake and looking at you, and you could swear that he’s rolling his eyes.

Oh yeah, this is your kid, all right...


	4. Terezi Pyrope

==>be Karen DuChamp

You are running late. 

But you’re so busy, you’re _always_ running late. You’ve gotten permission to pick up the grub you’ll be taking care of between court dates, so you’re running as fast as you can down the hall. One of the nursemaids frowns and stands up, holding her hands out to stop you. “Ma’am, you shouldn’t run in the nursery block. The grubs will become frightened and we do not want that...”

“Oh! Oh yes, sorry. I’m just...I’m running late, I need to be in court in four hours...” 

The nursemaid tilts her head at you. “Do you think you’ll be properly prepared to raise a grub? If you are, as you say, busy...”

“Of course, it’s just that my partner has to work and I wasn’t expecting it, we have plenty of help, it’s just that this was unexpected!”  Oh, Tina would never forgive you if you messed this up for her... 

“Well, then...let’s see how this goes, shall we? Come this way, I’ll show you the one you’ll be taking home.” 

The nursemaid led you into the nurseryblock and there aren’t very many grubs left and most of them are sleeping. She lifts up a little teal-colored grub and carries her carefully over to you. “This is Terezi Pyrope.” 

You peer over at the little one. She’s sleeping sprawled out on her back and she’s cute, you think. “Do you think she’ll wake up if I take her?” 

“She might. She’ll at least smell something is different. And she might bite, so be prepared.”

You nod and hold out your hands to take her, and you naturally cradle her like a human baby. She wriggles a bit and you can hear her sniff the air. She makes a tiny questioning sound and opens her eyes. 

How is this little creature even cute? you wonder, even as your mouth curves in a smile, watching her. You didn’t expect to feel much of anything. This was mostly your partner Tina’s idea, she was  fascinated by the idea, though you’d never wanted children of any sort. But you went along with it, because yeah, it might be interesting, and it meant so much to her...

But you never expected to feel...in any way maternal. The grub yawns and yes, there seems to be a million razor sharp teeth in that tiny mouth. You know you’re in for a bite one way or another, so you put your finger near her mouth. 

But all she does is lick it, and then she trills, a soft, musical sound that tugs at your heart. “Oh,” you say softly, and look around for a place to sit. The nursemaid smiles at you and guides you to a place. 

“The trilling means that she’s happy and secure, which is a good sign.” 

You had seen pictures of troll grubs before, but somehow you didn’t quite realize what an expressive face she would have. You can tell that the little one likes your scent, likes the warmth of your chest as she’s pressed against you, likes the way your skin tastes and is content.  You tickle her cheek and she makes that trilling sound again. You could spend all day with her. 

Now you regret smushing her in between court dates, but you swear inwardly that you’re never going to do that again. Terezi yawns, blinking her eyes sleepily, curls up and goes back to sleep. You’re stunned she’s taken to you so quickly, because you’ve never enjoyed children or babies.    
You like her smell and her silky black hair, fine as spiderwebs, and are fascinated by her tiny eyelashes and the front legs that are beginning to look like hands and arms. Her body was soft, her six legs not very strong.  Terezi was helpless, for the most part, even though her teeth were sharp. It would be so easy to hurt her, and the thought makes you hunch around her protectively. 

You look over at the nursemaid.  “I’m sorry...they’re...they’re quite endearing, aren’t they?” 

“They have evolved to appeal to a certain sympathetic lusi natura. Without a lusus, they die very quickly.” 

You cup her tiny head in your hand. “She’s lovely. I am sorry that I have to go to my court date. Could I...call my partner? I want to see if there’s any way she can come down before I have to leave.” You don’t want to leave her alone. You’re her _mother._ _  
_   
You just realized that you mean that more than you’ve ever meant anything in your life. 

“...huh.” 


	5. Gamzee Makara

==>be the worried nursemaid

He’s the last. The little purple grub crawls around looking for the other grubs that were here before. He looks lonely. You refrain from holding him, though your arms want to, because he really does look sad, but it’s best not to handle the grubs overmuch before the new family gets here.

So you pace, and you worry and when the telephone rings, you answer in your usual bland tones, keeping your irritation out of things. The Senator and his wife are running late, and surely, surely the nursemaids can spare a few minutes to wait?

You reply in the affirmative, but after you hang up, you sigh and look over at the grub. You go over and pick him up and cuddle him, and he’s just so happy not to be alone that he cuddles in and goes to sleep. You lean your cheek against him gently and just hope he’ll be happy with these people.

==>Be Senator Bailey

You are moving through the hallways like you own them, which, in a way, you believe you do. You were the one pushing for this program in New Jersey. And you have to set a good example. It can’t be that difficult to raise a grub...you’ve raised two children already, and your kids are in college, making good grades, thank you very much. You shake hands with the nursemaids, nice young women. For trolls, anyway.

The little grub is purple and your wife is nervous. She doesn’t like insects very much, but you think he looks sorta cute in the way really ugly things are cute. So you hold him and your wife watches as you do. The little nursemaid watches you with concern, but you’re being gentle.

He makes a soft, uncertain trill and you can see the nursemaid’s shoulders relax. She begins telling you that the sound means that the grub is happy. Well, good.

“His name is Gamzee Makara.”

Huh. Sounds like a hippie name. “...can we change it?”

“It is preferable that you do not,” the nursemaid says gravely, looking a little shocked. “Names are too important to be chosen by someone who does not understand troll culture.”

“I suppose it will do,” you say. Your wife is not inclined to stay much longer, and you know it, though she’s making a decent show, you think, of being attentive. But you wonder if she’ll ever touch the little thing.

“We should be going,” she says quietly. Cautiously, she extends a finger and strokes the grub’s wild, dark hair, smiling nervously. The little grub trills again, happier this time, and the nursemaid looks relieved again, though still worried.

“You shouldn’t worry your head,” you tell her. “We’ve been good at raising children.”

The little nursemaid looks at you serenely and you, quite honestly, are a little spooked. But she speaks politely, impassively: “Then I shall merely wish you luck, sir, and many happy days.”


	6. Kanaya Maryam

==>Be Survia Maryam

You have never known a longer day than this, and that includes Wriggling Days.   _And_ Brooding Days. 

You feel good, and right, about most of the matches you’ve witnessed today, though you do worry about the boy grub who went to the set of bodybuilders, and the girl grub who went to an ex-convict and his wife.  There’s also a worry you have about one of the sea-dwelling trolls, that perhaps the people who had him may influence him in the wrong direction.  But you do not fool yourself that you have any say in who gets what grub, and you also know that the lone jade-blooded troll on the host family committee was most likely easily shouted down by the highbloods while they were making their decisions. 

But, since you have a grub to take charge of yourself, this will be your first and last Family Day for quite some time to come. You will be much too busy to tend to the Mother Grub very often, and your little one Kanaya will need all of your attention for the next little while. She’s in your arms now, sleeping again, though she will soon be awake. Awake and wanting your attention. The way she latched on to your face with her eyes was especially endearing. You sit in some human contraption called a ‘rocking chair’ in the mostly empty nursery, cradling your grub in your arms, feeling a strange kinship with her. 

You wonder if it is those ‘maternal feelings’ the humans go on about. Those feelings are quite wonderful, for the most part, though they bring with them some worries you’ve never had before. _ Would she have friends? Would she be happy? Can I care for her as I ought? Would she want to serve the Mother Grub upon adulthood?   _ Although you are supposed to encourage her in that direction, you are not disposed to force the issue. 

They were no longer on Alternia. It was  _ different  _ here. Perhaps there would be opportunities for her to do something different, something special. Something all her own. 

She felt Kanaya move in her arms. She never made much noise, in fact, she didn’t have to. You are so attuned to the grub’s needs that she very rarely had to wait for anything. As you feed your charge, another nursemaid comes in. “Thank gog today is over,” she says, collapsing into another chair. 

You smile over at her. “Yes, but now you must scale up the activity for the next brooding period. Our work never ends.” The work never ends, though there were only 48 new trolls total to add to the population this sweep. Their 12 trolls were a motley group, and for some reason, you think of Karkat, who has gone home with Terrence. You find yourself missing Karkat, and you find yourself thinking of Terrence’s brown eyes. 

You wonder how he and Karkat are doing tonight. 

Perhaps you should call. The thought makes you a little nervous. 

“Yes, but you have a higher level of responsibility, caring for a grub on your own.” 

You look down at Kanaya, feeding happily and contentedly in your arms. There are times when she is not so contented but you know her enough by now so that you know how to calm her. 

“It’s really not that heavy a burden,” you say softly, stroking the grub’s hair. “Not at all, actually.” 

=end=

**Author's Note:**

> (oh come on, you knew it was gonna happen)


End file.
